Latest Posts by zephyreros07 - Page 2

Tugging at my damned heart strings!!!!

(slightly nsfw)

“Mother found out about us. She says she’ll tell father if I don’t put an end to it.” Draco’s whisper-soft voice is a wrinkle in the dead night, but its effect on Hermione’s heart feels irreparable.

She sits up, his arms falling away. “Your mother is blackmailing you?”

He shrugs. “It’s more common than you’d think on my side of the pond.”

Her gaze drops from his settled eyes to the lines of muscle and scarring on his naked chest, committing every visible inch of him to memory. Their bodies are pressed against each other under the covers, soft and sated. There are angry scratches down his abdomen, where she likes to dig her fingers when he makes her see stars.

She swallows the pain, but can’t resist the tension building behind her eyes or the blurring of his silhouette. Is this his way of saying goodbye? One last blissfully oblivious shag before they part ways?

“Hey, look at me.” He curves his hand over her cheek, luring her eyes back to his. “Don’t cry.”

She looks down, ashamed that she’s emotional when this clearly means nothing to him.

“Hermione,” he says in a gentle and patient voice. “What am I to you?”

“You’re ev—” She stops herself, feeling her skin flush with heat. “Why are you asking me?” She’s struck by another wave of grief. “To wrench out my feelings before you toss me away?”

“Only trying to gauge them,” he amends, brushing his thumb across her lips. “I find myself at a crossroads and need your guidance.” His hand sails down her neck to her shoulder, where his thumb draws lazy patterns on her skin. “You see, there’s this girl, and while she and I started off as something rebellious and unattached, I fell for her. And now I don’t know what to do.”

Her stomach swoops, drawing forth a hundred manic butterflies. “My guidance, you say?”

“I’d be very grateful.”

“Well, I hear this girl’s rather clever and could find a way to make it work even without his family’s obnoxious hoard of wealth.” She weaves her fingers through his, staring at the signet ring on his finger. “So my advice to you is, stay with her… because she’s fallen too.”

He raises her hand to his lips, kissing her knuckles. Candlelight splashes over his fair lashes, turning his amused gaze molten. “I was hoping she’d say that.”

She climbs onto his lap, using her free hand to maneuver herself over him and into her. They sigh deeply, their gazes locked, their hands still weaved together. “Stay with me, Draco,” she murmurs against his lips, turning the plea into a deep kiss.

He turns them over so her curls splay out across both pillows and he’s hovering above her. He takes his time examining her face, neck, collarbone, chest, and their connected bodies, before building a slow rhythm with their hips. His breathing grows heavy, the weight of his gaze heavier. She feels connected to him in all ways two people can be connected, and a shade tender after believing she’d lost him for good.

“I will,” he says between open-mouthed kisses. “There was never any doubt who I belonged to. I just needed to know you felt the same way.”

(545 words, prompt from twitter: blackmail)

Oh my goddess

Dramione watercolor

Jake supremacy

@usergif back to cool event: challenge #4 — typography

Yes then Brooklyn

My Favorite TV Shows (ranked by my followers) #05. Brooklyn Nine Nine (September 17, 2013-September 16, 2021) I’m happy to be here with my family. My super weird family with two black dads, and two latina daughters, and two white sons, and Gina, and… I don’t know what you are, some… strange baby. To the Nine-Nine!

Oh Lord

Sirius: Why isn't the statue smirking at me? Lily: It isn't smirking at anyone, they're all just imagining it. James: Three of us saw it, Lily. How do you explain that? Lily: *points at James* Sleep deprivation. *points at Regulus* Paranoia. *points at Peter* Delusional personality disorder.

𝚆𝚑𝚢 𝚒𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚜𝚘 𝚝𝚛𝚞𝚎!?

This is too good. :)

Remus: hey, why aren’t koalas considered bears?

Sirius: because they don’t have the right koalafications

Remus: no you dumb piece of shit, it’s because they’re marsupials

Sirius, muttering: the one time I think he’s trying to tell a joke I get it wrong, fucking-

Heya Griff, I’m Zeph, I’m trans and beginning my last UK school year.

I bloody live for eng lit- I am rocking with othello all the way! Taylor Swift and Shawn Mendes are my favs! I’m trying to write a book as well and I can play piano and acoustic guitar.

I’m trans f-m and just love reading either Harry Potter or romantic novels, I too am just that lonely.

Wanna be tumblr buds?

Hey. Salut. I'm Griffin.

Heya, cool cats! I'm Griffin! But you can call me Griff. The new school year is starting for me soon, and I wholly intend on being productive as BLAZING HELL this year and I'm thinking starting this tumblr blog will keep the ball rolling for me. So here's my lil' intro. I'm going into my senior year of highschool, AAAAAAAAA. I am a music f r e a k and plan on being a famous rockstar. Pretty simple. I love Rock 'n' Roll, David Bowie (YES.), Tim Burton, Hungry (the makeup artist), Bjork, Beethoven, Sex Pistols, Creepypasta, Marble Hornets, Gary Oldman, Phantom of the Opera, The Smiths & Morrissey, The Marauders *sob*, POTC, Deep Forest, Mott the Hoople, Harry Potter, All things academia, All things punk, All things classical, All things Glamrock, All things romantic, and All things chaotic. :] Here's What I'll Be Studying: (Heads up, I'm homeschooled. So I get free reign of what I study B) ) Music, Guitar & Piano Theory, Poetry, Art, English & Literature, History, Classics and French. Some Things I'll Be Studying Outside of School Work: Latin, Italian & German. (hah. bet.) Knitting & Crocheting, Music Production, Calligraphy. And Things I Plan To Do In My Free time: Jewelry Making, Letter Writing, Song Writing, Novel Writing (I am writing a book, more on that at a later date ;) ), Poetry Writing, Chess, Baking & Cooking, Stargazing, Taking a Walk and Writing What Comes To Mind, Journaling, Having a Picnic, Dramatically Reading Plays and Poetry Because I'm Just T H A T LONELY, Watching Academia Media, Collecting & Pressing Flowers, Decorating My Room With Art, Poetry & Lyrics, Reading, duh. Pathetic Goals That Hopefully I Can Achieve: Fixing My Terrible Sleep Schedule, Only Two Hours On Screens a Day Unless Studying/Researching/Writing, Exercise More, Journal, Read, Get Amazing At Guitar & Piano, Post On Tumbler (obv), Draw & Paint More, Study More, Keep Up French, Write My Novel.

Here's Some Links: Quotev WeHeartIt ArchiveOfOurOwn Andddd, yeah! This Blog is mainly going to be Academia/Marauders/Music related. So if you're into that . . . Ahoy! Welcome to the party!! Anyway, see ya later cats!

Awww that’s my James

james fleamont potter headcanons because i love him

he eats a red apple every fucking morning

might not have a slutty waist but sure as hell he has slutty hands

he loves kissing his friends

he smiles a lot

he'll be a dayglow stan

he loves frozen

he sleeps with two arms under his pillow and sleeps on his stomach using all the space in the fucking bed

his writing is kinda horrible

he's so good at math without even trying, like he's just good at math

book smart but an absolute idiot with 0 common sense

he likes to read poetry

he calls his parents after every minor inconvenience

he'll tell depressed people to do sports lol "Remus come on quidditch will help you with your angry issues! Exercise is the key!"

he's childhood friends with marls and peter

he's lactose intolerant but loves ice cream too much

he smelled like cologne and herbs

his fav seasons are summer and winter

he cried when he found out Santa Claus wasn't real

he was one of those kids with a kid leash because he kept running away from effie

he loved going to the zoo and his fav animals are giraffes and elephants

he waves his head when he's listening to music and pretends to have a microphone and sings and dance no matter where he is

he does that hot thing with the pencil

he actually has a really good voice and dances pretty well

he loves being in his childhood house

his favourite food are effie's apple pies

he tried to learn spanish and sometimes he mixes the words but his accent is awful

he sings 'happy birthday' while washing his hands, and instead of drying them with towels he'll just shake them

he's always carrying food for Remus and Regulus because they don't eat enough because they forget

him and sirius look like a couple and they can't spend more than one day apart from eachother

he had a golden retriever growing up because he always wanted a brother and his parents thought it was a better and more available idea

he had an obsession with dinosaurs growing up

he has a diary

he loves baking but kinda sucks at it

he has the most beautiful eyelashes, and the prettiest smile ever seen and he's very aware of it

he has an hyperactive imagination (ADHD)

sings in the shower

a hardcore swiftie

this man has all five love languages

a morning person this man is up at 5:30 and he's so happy about it like james it's okay sleep well bby

he cries in every romance movie, and in every Disney movie, he just can't help himself

dad jokes bad dad jokes and you'll laugh because his jokes are so bad

HE HAS FUCKING DIMPLES.

"James 'the ally' potte-" GUNSHOTS!!! wdym about ally? he's literally pansexual

he didn't even knew he was pansexual because he thought everyone fell in love regardless the gender of the other person

he'll respect women more than himself

he had a crush on moony on 4 year, then he realized it was a platonic thing

What colour is maths, red or blue?

The marauder’s one argument!

Oooooh ‘mione’s in love

Peeves is a seriously underrated character in my opinion.

“Watch out!” Ron grabbed Hermione’s hand and pulled her out of the way just in time. She watched as Peeves dropped what appeared to be a ball that burst open and emitted the most foul, putrid smelling slime right where she had been standing.

“Woah! They was a close one!” Harry said as Peeves zoomed in circles above their heads gleefully.

“Peeves!! You almost hit me!” Hermione shrieked at him with her hands balled up into fists.

“HaHa! Weasel saved Miss Know-It-All from the slime bomb! They must be in looove!” Peeves said in a sing-song voice and doing a celebratory jig.

“Ooohh Weaselby loves Granger! Weaselby loves- OOF!”

A melon sized snowball had emitted from Ron’s wand, and hit Peeves square in the face abruptly ending his song.

“Ha!” Ron said triumphantly.

“Nice shot there, Ron!” Seamus called out.

Hermione beamed at him. “Where did you learn that spell?”

“Charley taught it to me when I was a kid. We used to have epic snowball fights at the Burrow,” Ron told her.

“Why didn’t you ever teach me, then?” Harry punched him playfully in the shoulder.

“If I taught you, then I couldn’t beat you at snowball fights,” Ron said putting him in a headlock.

“Hang on. You were doing underage magic at the Burrow?” Hermione questioned.

Ron released Harry. “Well obviously we didn’t tell mum,” he said as his ears turned pink. “And we didn’t use a wand, so the ministry would just assume it was uncontrolled magic.”

Ron waited for the disapproving lecture from Hermione, but it never came.

“Impressive,” she said instead. “Well, I’m off to Arithmancy,” Hermione nudged Ron with her shoulder in a very Un-Hermione like way. “See you at lunch.”

And with that, she was off.

Obliviated but you do you boo xx

Hermione: Harry, stop eating cake icing.

Harry: IM SORRY but are YOUR parents dead because of a noseless man? NO? That's WHAT I THOUGHT!

Hermione: Youre disgusting.

Censorship will not solve a single problem. Putting ban and restrictions on AO3 will drive creators away. You won’t be making your platform look appealing to outsiders. You’re destroying your own platform by driving the majority of your creators away.

The exact same thing happened to fanfiction.net and Tumblr. So many people quit. AO3 is one of the very few platforms creators have.

Censorship does not solve any problem. It does harm to creators.

If you can vote, vote against Tiffany G.

Liking this doesn’t help either. Reblog so more people can see

Edit: the results are out, Tiffany G. did not win. Thank you to everybody who helped spread this.

If you’d like to be educated on why censorship won’t solve any problem, I made a post explaining why, here.

Screw the people who wrote this and forgot it’s set in the UK/England.

Sirius would, in fact, be asking Remus how to change a nappy and not a diaper.

Fuck dumbledore

Sirius would, in fact, be asking Remus how to change a nappy and not a diaper.

tru dat

Ooohhhh I need a full story NOW!!!!

I want Dramione babies !!!

!!!

Here you go.

*****

Formal Sitting Room

by Pacific Rimbaud

Rated M

1300 words, complete short fic

Tags: Dad!Draco, Mum!Hermione, A Baby, Sofa Sitting, Stupidly in Love 

“You’ll note that I’ve brought you here to the sitting room, and that’s because we have several important things to discuss without the usual distractions.”

Draco adjusted his posture on the sofa.

The long term goal, he had decided, was to look engaged—attentive, he thought—but at the same time relaxed and approachable. One might have a conversation sitting like this, rather than issue commands, a distinction which he had come to value greatly.

His interlocutor leaned forward from the hips, as though he meant to leave.

“Make no attempt to escape. You’ll recall that I’ve set up wards of all kinds throughout the room. You may test them as much as you like, but you’ll get no further than the threshold if you try to run off.”

Draco adjusted his reading glasses, gathering his thoughts.

He paused.

“Are you looking at these?” He removed his glasses and held them up, where they caught the lamp light. “These are mine. They’re not under any circumstances to be removed from my person. They’re quite fragile.” He tucked the arms back over his ears, and began his speech.

“I know that while your goals and mine may not always align, I recognize that your … ” Draco squinted, recalling the appropriate language “ … feelings are valid. It’s perfectly alright to cry, especially in situations like the one we had in the kitchen just now. For my part, I” —he felt his face contort under the effort, which his conversation partner seemed to find amusing enough to smile about— “was wrong in eating the entire banana. I ought to have asked if you wanted any.”

That part over, Draco moved on.

A sandwich, he’d been told.

Positive feedback to start, then constructive criticism, followed by further positive feedback.

“I’ve noticed that you’ve been working hard on your articulation and vocabulary recently, and I admire your tenacity and perseverance. Your choice to monologue at three o’clock in the morning was disruptive to other members of the household. Your tone and projection are impressive.”

His companion settled back against the cushion behind him and yawned.

Draco moved on. His posture had stiffened, and he took a moment to allow his muscles to relax. 

“You’ll recall our earlier discussions about personal hygiene. I understand that progress in that area is dependent on multiple factors outside of your control, and that you’re doing your best under the circumstances.” He drew in a deep breath. “Know that I love you very much, and always will, no matter what you’ve done.”

He swallowed. The words felt less like foreign objects in his mouth every time he said them, which was the purpose of this exercise.

“I’m very proud of you, son.”

“What are you two up to in here?” Hermione’s voice was laced with fatigue.

She entered the room with her arms wrapped around her waist and her eyes still blinking, fogged with sleep, and slid sideways into Draco’s lap. “Hello.”

“Good afternoon. I take it you fell asleep with your book. How was the nap?” He ran the heel of his hand firmly up her spine, then down again.

“Gorgeous. Thank you so much.”

“Of course.”

She considered Draco’s associate at the other end of the sofa. “I’m trying very hard right now to not be terrified of him falling off the edge.”

Draco scoffed. “I’ve put a sticking charm on his bum, he’s not going anywhere.” He tilted his chin at the baby. “Your mother thinks I’d let you toss yourself off the sofa, Fornax.”

“Stop calling him Fornax, he’s going to think it’s actually his name.” Hermione yawned. “He looks ready for his sleep. What did you two get up to?”

Draco wrapped his arm around Hermione’s waist, and without dislodging her from his lap, leaned forward and grasped the baby around the back with a grip steady and confident from constant repetition.

“What did we do, Dennis?”

“Your name is not Dennis, you poor mouse.” Hermione drew the baby into her arms, where it flattened its cheek against her chest and breathed a world-weary sigh. Hermione sniffed its head. “He smells of fruit.”

“We had peaches, and some avocado, and he said no to the banana, but then changed his mind once I’d eaten the whole thing and got angry with me, because he’s your son.”

“And yours.”

“That’s probably fair. Then we did some scooting, and bashing one’s own father about the head and face with a wooden mallet. After that, we rocked for a bit, and read Red Dragon, Yellow Dragon, Blue Dragon half a dozen times, and then we ate its pages for a while.”

“Did it taste nice?”

“It always does.”

“Mmm.” Hermione ran her palm over the baby’s white-blond curls, then kissed the crown of its head. “And then you came into the formal sitting room to practice—what, entertaining etiquette?”

“Something like that.” Draco stroked a hand through Hermione’s hair, and then began the meticulous and satisfying work of untangling his fingers from it.

“Are you ready for your second sleep, my love?” she whispered into the baby’s scalp.

“He’s had his milk and a fresh nappy just now. I’ll go lie him down.” Draco wrapped his hands around the baby’s ribs, and shifted him onto his own chest. “How far did you get in your book before you fell asleep?”

“Two pages.”

“Maybe now that you’ve napped, you’ll make some headway.”

Draco laid a hand on Hermione’s hip and pushed at her lightly to shift her off his lap.

“Or … “ she whispered.

He stopped.

His eyes rolled back in his head.

“I’ll never stop loving what this does to you.” She dropped her temple to his shoulder, still circling her thumb in a ghostly touch over the exquisitely sensitive skin of his earlobe.

Draco pulled her hand away with a soft grip on her wrist, and looked at her sidelong.

“You could read your book, or? Go on.”

“Or … ”

As she grasped his right hand and pulled it toward her, he held the baby more firmly with his left.

She guided his hand under the bottom hem of her jumper, then higher, until he took over and made the revolutionary discovery that she wasn’t wearing anything at all underneath.

“Or,” she said, “we could do something about the way you look in your reading glasses.”

He clutched at her, one all-encompassing press of his palm and fingers around the perfect curve of her breast, then drew back, dragging his fingertips along her skin, and then—”

She gasped with the pinch.

Draco nodded. “That’s settled, then. I’m going to keep these reading glasses on, no matter what they might be doing to my eyes, go and put Griffin in his cot—”

“Griffin was a serious suggestion, which you were incredibly rude about.” Hermione’s voice had taken on a frayed, breathless quality. “It’s horrible of you to bring it up.” She arched her chest against his hand. “If we’d gone with your system he could have been Bootes. Reticulum. Triang—oh, gods, that feels good.”

“Does it? I’m glad to hear it.” He removed his hand from her jumper, and slid it down along the warm skin of her belly. “I’m going to go and put our very beautiful son, with his very beautiful, very Muggle name, in his cot—”

“Are you?” Hermione’s eyes expressed something quite apart from sleepiness.

“And then I’m going to come back here—”

He slid his hand beneath the waistband of the cotton pajama bottoms she lounged about the house in, and which inexplicably turned him on, but stopped a wicked inch above where she might have liked his journey to end.

“And then what?” she asked.

He thrilled at her obvious impatience, advertised in the pitch of her voice, the color blooming over her cheeks, and the tension of her efforts to not roll her hips up into his hand.

The baby made his customary sigh at the advent of sleep.

Draco cupped the baby’s head in his palm, holding him tight to his shoulder, and leaned in close to Hermione’s ear.

“And then, I’m going to teach you some entertaining etiquette.”

He’s so hot I just ahhhhhhh

Awwwww

“Hermione, you are honestly the most wonderful person I’ve ever met.” Ron Weasley, The Order of the Phoenix

They’re all so cute

Golden Trio hanging out in Hogsmeade 🍺

This is just amazing

Jealous

“What the hell is your problem, Hermione?!” Ron slammed the classroom door shut, locked, and silence it for good measure.

Hermione spun around on her heel and stomped towards him. “YOU!! You great, thickheaded prat!!”

Ron kept her pace and marched towards her, not backing down an inch.

“Oh look! Little Miss Perfect has her knickers in a twist about something, yet again! Let’s here it, Hermione! What have I done to offend your delicate sensibilities now? Did I burp at a house elf? Did I misspell a word on my charms essay? What have I done to offend you, oh great one?!”

Hermione saw red. If he wanted a fight she was gonna give it to him. She balled up her fists, and stuck out her chin.

“Don’t you talk to me like that, Ronald Weasley! You- you ginger-headed broomstick! You haven’t been free of Lavender for more than two weeks, and I look over to catch you ogling that 5th year like you’ve never seen a girl before!”

“What the hell do you care who I ogle?! Ow! Hermione, stop!”

Hermione kicked him in the shin. And just for good measure, she slapped him across the shoulder.

While Ron was ducking from her blows he cast a nonverbal spell that slid her across the room.

“Why are you always so violent, you barmy witch?!”

“Why are you always so irritating, Ronald?! Stop playing dumb! You know why it bothers me!”

“Oh yeah?! Why don’t you spell it out for me?”

She stomped her foot. “I’m not saying anything! I’m tired of making the moves! Every time I do, you throw it in my face! You make a move! I think I’ll go write Victor a letter! I never caught him ogling other girls!”

And with that she marched toward the door.

Ron jumped in her path. “Oh Vicky, huh? Sure, he’ll come and save the day, won’t he?”

“He’s less infuriating than you are! Move Ronald!”

“I don’t think I will!”

Hermione pointed her wand at him and a blue light shot out of the tip. Ron ducked quickly and came back up “Ha!” He said triumphantly pointing his own wand at her.

Hermione slid back to the wall again, but this time her hands were pinned above her head. She tugged on them experimentally and realized he had cast a sticking charm.

Hermione started pulling on her hands furiously. She was madder than a wet kneazle. Ron was walking towards her, watching her, apparently quite impressed with his handiwork.

“Well, well, well what do we have here? The great Hermione Granger stuck to a wall huh?” He gave her a cocky grin.

“Stop calling me that! I never said I was great! You let me go right now,or I’ll hex you in to next week!”

“All the more reason not to let you go! And I wasn’t ogling her, Hermione. We were just having a conversation about quidditch. That’s all. She likes the Chuddley Cannons.”

Hermione stopped struggling and looked at him. He was standing right in front of her now.

“Ron, let me go,” she said in a much calmer voice.

Ron watched her like he was considering something. He put his wand to her wrist, and the bond broke. Hermione brought her hands down and shook them out.

He took one of her hands in his examining it.

“Did I hurt you?” He asked quietly.

“No, of course not!” She took a step towards him. He was still looking at her hand, rubbing it with his thumb. He pulled it to his mouth and gently kissed it.

Ron looked at her still not letting go of her hand. He tucked one of her curls behind her ear. “You’re not really gonna write to that tosser are you?”

“He’s not a tosser, but no, I suppose not,” she said getting lost in his blue eyes. His fingers were lingering on her neck.

“Good. Because I can’t stand him. I don’t trust him. He only wants one thing from you, Hermione,” Ron’s thumb was rubbing her cheek now, and he was staring at her lips.

“And what do you want, Ron?” Hermione asked him, resting her hands on his chest.

Ron’s eyes met hers. He swallowed hard and shifted his weight from one foot to the other. He leaned down and kissed her softly, slowly. He pulled back and looked at her again.

Hermione grabbed him by his shirt and pulled him back to her. Ron’s lips crashed onto hers, kissing her passionately. His hand threaded into her hair and held her head still so he could get even closer to her.

His tongue was sliding across hers, and his lips were so soft. She felt his strong arm wrap around her waist and hoist her up. They were moving somewhere, but she was too busy to pay attention. She felt her bottom land on a flat surface, probably a desk. She noticed her height was closer to his now. She grabbed Ron’s face and kissed him hard wrapping her legs around his waist, pouring everything she wanted to say into that kiss.

Ron’s hands were rubbing her waist. He pulled her shirt out of her skirt, so he could run his hands on her bare skin. His mouth left hers to kiss along her neck. She let out a whimper, which seemed to break the spell.

He pulled back and looked at her, searching her eyes for something. “Is this what you want? With me?” He asked.

She grabbed his face in her hands. “Yes!” She said fiercely trying to make him understand.

He looked down seeming to lose his nerve. “I’m not Krum,” he said quietly.

Hermione felt her stomach clench. “Good!” She said. Ron’s head snapped back up to look at her.

“I don’t want Victor. I want you! And I can’t stand it when you look at another girl like you did Lavender. I can’t stand the thought of you- you- with another girl!”

Hermione was working herself up again. Ron put his hand on her face and made her look at him.

“I’ll never look like her,Ron,” she said weakly. “And- and I’ll never understand the appeal of quidditch! So if that’s what you like in a witch, just forget it!” She said sticking her chin out again.

Ron snorted. “I like the way you look. And not liking quidditch hasn’t stopped me from being your friend. Why would it stop me from… being more?”

Hermione gave him a small smile. “You were jealous of Victor,” she said with mirth in her voice.

He smirked at her, “Ruddy pumpkin-head, he is. And you were jealous of Lavender.”

“She looks like a terrible kisser,” Hermione said, the distaste clear in her tone.

Ron grinned at her.

“Shut it,” she said.

Ron laughed. “I didn’t say anything!”

She narrowed her eyes at him. “No, but you were thinking it.”

“And what was I thinking?” He wanted to know still smiling at her.

“I have no idea, but I’m sure it would irritate me,” she said.

Ron laughed again. “You know, you’re cute when you’re jealous.”

“Shut up, and kiss me,” Hermione grabbed him and kissed that lopsided grin right off his face.